"Colonel Harrington, I haven't got eighty-five dollars."
"Then get it!" snapped the Colonel.
"Nor can I get it."
"Then," observed the colonel, restoring the bit of paper to his pocket—"go to jail!"
Bart regarded his enemy dumbly. Colonel Harrington was a power in Pleasantville, his will and his way were paramount there.
"I am sorry," said Bart finally, in a tone of genuine distress, "but eighty-five dollars is a sheer impossibility—in cash. If you would listen to me—"
"But I shan't!"
"I would like to offer payment or replace the pedestal on reasonable terms."
"It don't go!"
"And, further, I am not to blame in the matter."